CynthiaWVirginia
Posts: 1915
Joined: 2/28/2010
From: West Virginia, USA
Status: offline
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All the stress got to me these past months and my body went crazy. My panic disorder hit an all time high and spiked my blood pressure up. I had to get used to an allergy pill that was given out as a nerve pill that was supposed to help lower my BP (I'm not taking it any more or I'd still be sleeping 20 hours per day. It didn't work out so I've been taken off of it), and I was put on BP medicine that ended up being doubled, because it wasn't doing the job, and then I was given another BP med to go with it. The second BP med makes me sleepy but I'm starting to get used to it.
I've stopped dieting. I spent seven months in a row last year on a ketogenic diet, cranking out 40-80 on the strip each time I tested and didn't lose any weight. I'm tired of doing without, and yeah, I just finished having a warm croissant for breakfast that was dripping with melted butter, along with an apple and a mug of coffee. (Sinking my teeth into that bread was almost as good as having an orgasm.)
I'm working on taking my metabolism out of couch potato mode and into something better. I'm working within my gimpy limitations. I found my ancient paperback book (it had been hiding in the basement in a crate and is almost completely ruined), an RCAF exercise program that even someone in their seventies could do. I used to use this program when I was a young adult, as well as for a while after my son was born, but not since I lost the ability to sit on the floor and get myself back up. Nowadays I either stand up or use my bed to get them done. It only takes up to 15 minutes per day and I'm doing it to get more limber and to work on some muscles I don't normally use. For my age group I'm supposed to spend at least 8 days on each level, and I'm to only go to level 12...and I'm almost half way in to level two, yay! This is a daily regimen.
On top of that, several times per week I do a mall walk (our mall finally put a lot of benches back in, which they had removed years ago when they were putting in new carpet) unless I'm doing yard work. On days when my old lower back fractures are especially crazy and my sciatica is acting up, just walking about eight car lengths to the next bench sends me to an 8 on a scale of 1-10. I sit down a few minutes until my pain is back down to 3 or 4 and then I go for the next bench. I go from one end of the mall to the other "even if it kills me". This isn't any kind of fun, but it's necessary. I lost my ability to walk laps around parking lots for two hours three times per week several years ago when I got those blood clots in my lungs and after every few steps I had to pause, grab a wall or banister and breathe hard like I had just finished a marathon. Because of my breathing problems (which are better now, but not back to what they were), I let my leg muscles go to H.
I'm also doing some yard work. I have two small benches placed strategically, and I sit down when my pain level has me wanting to scream my head off. (No, I don't use any pain meds, though my doctors have offered.) I even bought an old fashioned type lawn mower that runs on people power and not on electricity or gas, and I can push and pull that thing around a small area of my yard for maybe 15 or 20 minutes before I feel ready to shoot myself and have the glue factory come pick me up. 
When my pain level gets very high, I tend to shut down and am overwhelmed by sleepiness; I have to walk a fine line between exercise helping me and making me sleep 20 or more hours per day.
I stalled out on doing my DVD inventory/reduction, and on going through every last tub and crate in this house (my son had brought up about twenty bags of stuff from the basement and half way through I threw my hands up in the air, quitting because the moldy smell and the dust was driving my asthma crazy) but I'll get back to it after another few weeks. This house is bursting with stuff from dead relatives and from my mother's years of going to flea markets, as well as things I still want but has been stored away for more than a dozen years...I'm still working on getting rid of as much as I can bear to. The basement rooms are so full there's no room to walk around...but in the bags my son brought up was a thick terry cloth (pretty too) robe that my mother left behind when she moved to Texas years ago...she's been back in WV for around 14 years now and yep, she wanted that robe back when I told her I found it. (Sometimes I can't throw things away just because I want to. It's hard having a house when other family members and friends have a small apartment, because they expect me to be their free storage bin.)
I needed a break from tubs of quilting fabric and sorting scraps suitable for Barbie doll clothes and have been focusing on going through sci-fi, romance, and other books I don't plan to read again (if I even got around to reading them the first time around...I buy sci-fi and romance paperbacks at garage sales to donate to a nursing home). I have just two small book cases in my bedroom and the stuff had better fit or I'm going to keep skinnying it down until it does. I do 15 minute spurts of sorting only 4 or 5 times per day. It's a rare day when I can go at it for 2-3 hours at a time. I've got another huge box of books to donate, yay! I'm getting it out of my house next week and will be donating a box of movies and some clothes too, as well as some baby stuff to a place that takes donations to help out new mothers.
As far as (The Spoon Theory's) spoons go...all my spoons are being used for my own self. I'm putting my own life first, and yes, it's hard to get used to.
I'm topping again, just for fun, and trying to find a wide variety of things to experience. If we had a dungeon nearby or even a play party group I'd be open for bottoming, in a non-sexual and non D/s way. I'm not a masochist, am not endorphin blessed (and I hate how adrenaline feels when it's soaking my brain)...but I'm curious about how much I could take, and for how long, as long as the top didn't expect me to enjoy it (I'd rather scream and yell and cuss). Maybe I'd just be a big chicken instead and holler red within the first two minutes.
Kinky friends from NC came up to visit me for my birthday last month, and now I'm saving up to take a short trip with them to New York around five months from now.
< Message edited by CynthiaWVirginia -- 5/8/2015 2:21:54 PM >
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That's horrible, your furbaby having to have her leg amputated. (I've got to get offline now to hug my cats.)
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